The Wife:

And so one of the least interesting seasons of Top Model ends by choosing a completely unsurprising winner, the girl I thought was so unmemorable that I actually forgot she existed halfway through the season. She of the wind-tunnel face, Teyona.

But before she could be crowned, the final three had to do their requisite CoverGirl shoot and commercial, coached by McKey, who, for some reason, was given the haircut Hilary Swank had in Boys Don’t Cry, which detracts from her beauty and makes her look really, really awkward and gawky.

[Husband Note: Well, McKey is awkward and gawky, which is what made her interesting, but she was never that awkward and gawky.]

Which one is easy, which is breezy and which is beautiful?

Which one is easy, which is breezy and which is beautiful?

  • Aminat: This girl, aside from her obvious problem with clipping the ends of her words, has the most unpleasant manner of speaking. But the good news is her commercial isn’t totally awful and her eyes absolutely sparkle throughout it. She’s beautiful, truly, and if she never spoke again I’d be totally mesmerized.
  • Allison: She looks so lovely and ethereal on camera and her commercial isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be, even though she blanked on her lines. The photographer who shot her print ad thinks that, for some reason, she has a Bettie Page kind of look, which couldn’t be further from the truth, because she looks like a lemur. Or maybe the slow loris.
  • Teyona: I have no idea where all these nerves came from because Teyona has been so kind and happy-go-lucky throughout this whole competition, but she fell apart on this shoot. She kept messing up, got frustrated and cried during her take. What the fuck?

At panel, the girls photos and commercials were reviewed and they were told that the final two would be chosen to walk for design Amir Salama’s Rosa Chá line, and that it would involve something I don’t understand called the Brazilian Stomp. As I watched the cut of the commercial, I realized why there was one line of each girl’s script that I could not for the life of me understand . . . it’s because it was in Portuguese. Good job, me. I’m assuming that was the Portuguese translation of “easy, breezy, beautiful” because I didn’t hear that anywhere else in the commercial. As for their beauty shots for the campaign, all were lovely. Teyona looked like Zoe Saldana as Uhura in the new Star Trek, and I was surprised that she wasn’t hindered by being the only girl with a ponytail in her shot. Lemur Allison looked so lovely, and Aminat received the kiss of death from Tyra. That is, describing her photo with the sounds the adults make on Peanuts. “Wha wha.” Because of that, the right two girls were sent through to the final two, and I took a bathroom break with Aminat cried over her rejection or whatever she did.

What is with all the bird worship in Brazil?

What is with all the bird worship in Brazil?

Tyra immediately shipped Teyona and Slow Lorrison to meet with Anne Shoket to do their Seventeen cover trys. Anne Shoket said she thought this was a neck-and-neck race, but, clearly, Allison’s cover looked better and suited the brand better. Then it was off to the fucking weirdest, trip-tastic fashion show ever seen on ANTM. I’m kind of in love with the nation of Brazil now because it seems like their entire sense of beauty is based on what looks good on drag queens. In their Rosa Chá bikinis, their girls were decked out with bird feathers and jaunty little top hats as though they were a very literal interpretation of Satine’s gentle “One Day I’ll Fly Away” from Moulin Rouge. At first the girls did their bird thing down the runway, with Allison strutting a much improved walk, then they were asked to don full Carnivale headdresses and do whatever the Brazilian Stomp is and then the strangest thing occurred: the girls were covered in oil and asked to writhe in a sexy bikini tar orgy in the middle of the runway.

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ………………………………………………………………. WHAT?





Look, I get the girls being jungle birds in top hats and bikinis and how that goes with the strange Carnivale headdresses, but I do not understand the oil orgy. I would like the oil orgy on its own, as Allison said it was like being in an art installation (true), but combined with the other shit, it makes no fucking sense. Was the intent of the show to explore being tarred and feathered? Because that’s kind of what it did.

Also, Teyona lost her weave up in that bikini oil orgy and she flung it around like it was part of the show, which is more than enough reason for me to be okay with her winning. She gets extra points for that for sure.

At panel, everyone noted how impressed they were with Allison’s walk, and they said they felt that Teyona was sometimes a model-bot on the runway, especially when Miss J tried to get the girls to dance with him at the end of the runway. In a comparison of their photos, it’s clear that Teyona was good and consistent across the board, and that Allison was most improved. But the show is not called America’s Most Improved Model, it’s called America’s Next Top Model and so Teyona was crowned and forced to do a photoshot with crazy-hair Tyra.

Like pyschotic mama-birdgirl, like bland baby-birdgirl.

Like pyschotic mama-birdgirl, like bland baby-birdgirl.

And so we slink off into summer and hibernate by the pool in our Rosa Chá bikinis and jaunty little top hats and weird-ass feather creations until the fall, when Tyra will bring us what I’m sure will be the fucking strangest season in Top Model history: the short girl season. I really have no desire to see girls model commercial juniors clothing for 13 weeks, and I know I’m constantly going to be yelling things at my television like, “Your proportions are all wrong!” “Where are your legs?!” And I’ll, of course, be forced to endure repeated reminders that Miss Eva the Diva was only 5’6″ and 3/4 and that Kate Moss is short at 5’7.” But I will watch it. Because I will never not love this show, so long as Tyra and her giant ego and even bigger hair are there, so too will I be.

The Husband:

Yeah, it was a pretty uneventful season, but I also appreciated the lack of manufactured drama. That’s what always rubs me the wrong way, and while some of the photo challenges were not top-notch, I have still never been bored by one episode of this show. Teyona was a passable winner, but I doubt she’ll be remembered for very long.

Oh, and in case you missed it, this is what went down over on the Tyra show yesterday afternoon when they had an ANTM Graduation Party.

  • Tahlia is pregnant, even though she was told that, as a result of her burns and the surgeries, this couldn’t happen. And she’s inspiring women wounded in combat.
  • Fo thinks she invented the term “Blaxican” when she was eight, thus making her an idiot.
  • Celia is still fashionable.
  • As evidenced by her drawing of a bleeding Tyra, Allison’s art is pretty sweetastic. (Wife’s note: I would, ideally, like a room filled with art by Allison and actor Matthew Gray Gubler.)
  • Old queens at retirement homes do pretty good Tyra impersonations. Which is not surprising. At all.

The Husband:

Due to many personal appointments and dinners, Bush’s farewell address pre-empting certain shows, a crazy busy week and a shitload of work to do at the office, we the Children of Saint Clare, decided to take our respective NBC Thursday night comedy write-ups and double (and even triple!) them up. Here we have the last two weeks of the beloved The Office.

Last week, we finally saw the repercussions of the Dwight-Angela affair and its effect on Andy, as Michael, just on his way out to Corporate for the day, drops that bombshell on Andy extremely hard. It was about time, too, since it had been 17 days since Phyllis revealed the secret to everyone else in the office. (You’d think Andy would have figured that something was wrong when nobody had RSVPed to the Andy-Angela wedding, and it was now the day after the deadline, but this is The Office, and just as in real life, a lot of people are ignorant about a lot of things.)

“Meredith: I knew something bad was gonna happen.

Oscar: You said that yesterday.

Meredith: Yeah, my neighbor got murdered.”

Completely destroyed by the news, Andy challenges Dwight to a duel, choosing to use his own fists as his weapons. Dwight, however, thinks that choice is stupid…

“I will use a sword and I will cut off your bare hands!” – Dwight

…until Jim goes around the office and puts each and every one of Dwight’s poorly concealed weapons into a box and keeps them all very far away from Dwight.

When the duel is finally about to happen, they agree to fight in the parking lot, but when Dwight gets there, he finds nothing but a long, hand-written note attached to the shrubs. As he reads, Andy slowly drives his Prius, silently, up to Dwight and traps him between the car and the shrubbery, where they commence the most pathetic fight ever. (I drive a Prius, and while they do tend to stay pretty silent under five MPH, he would have had to have just started the car, otherwise it would have become somewhat noisier and less ninja-like.)

Death by Prius!

Death by Prius!

In the end, however, Dwight is shocked to discover that while Angela was having an affair with him, she actually slept with Andy twice, and so he breaks up with her. Both Dwight and Andy agree – you just can’t sleep with two people, Angela. So Dwight throws out his beloved Dwight bobblehead (which I also have, albeit in two pieces thanks to my bitch-ass cat Calliope), and everyone goes about their day.

Michael, meanwhile, finds out from Corporate that despite his complete incompetence at doing pretty much anything, the Scranton branch of Dunder Mifflin has been easily outselling the other branches. Nobody knows how, but perhaps Michael does, in his own way, inspire confidence in his employees, even if they are bumbling or sad about their soul-sucking job. I always appreciate it when Michael turns out to be not such a bad guy, even when there’s no reasonable explanation how. It just keeps the show’s sporadic cruelty at bay, because misery can’t always be interesting.

This week, with nary a mention of the Dwight-Angela-Andy love triangle, the show decides to take on two very ho-hum stories, one of which succeeds emotionally, the other somewhat unfunny filler.

Let’s start with the unfunny and unemotional story. While Michael and Dwight are out spying on another Pennsylvania paper company (more on that later), the office gets into a heated debate on whether or not Oscar-winning actress Hilary Swank is hot. First, some ground rules have to be covered in order to proceed with the debate, such as making sure that the discussion is about hotness and not beauty.

“A painting can be beautiful, but I don’t want to bang a painting.” – Kevin

The office is split right down the middle, though, so the debate turns into outright arguments, both pro and con, including Angela’s reaction at Kevin’s complete misunderstanding of the movie Boys Don’t Cry in which he thought there would be a final twist that she really was, in fact, a man.

“She’s a female Boris Becker.” – Angela’s bizarre way of saying that Swank is hot

(Me? I don’t think she’s hot, but I do think she can be very pretty, especially in period attire like in The Black Dahlia. Also, she only deserves one of her Oscars – the first – because everyone at the 2005 Oscars in her category of Best Actress were better. Million Dollar Baby can suck my nuts.)

Wait, did all of you just raise your hands for both questions?

Wait, did all of you just raise your hands for both questions?

Meanwhile, Michael and Dwight visit Prince Paper, a small paper company run by a very nice elder gentleman, along with only his loving wife and son, and has run it ever since he got back from Vietnam.

“Ooooh…Vietnam. I hear it’s lovely.” – Michael

Michael goes undercover as just a local business owner looking for a paper company that, unlike Dunder Mifflin, will treat him like a priority, and is shocked to find out that Prince Paper has at least 80 satisfied regular clients, a list of which Mr. Prince is perfectly willing to give up. After Dwight comes in, pretending to apply for a job that he will, of course, never get, proceeds to attain the rest of the necessary information they will need to report back to Dunder Mifflin Corporate.

Michael, however, sees how happy and lovely the Prince family is, and decides that he is unwilling to be a shark and put them out of business, simply to succeed at his own job. Back at the Scranton branch, Michael decides to take the list of Prince Paper clients and destroy it, but after a very pathetic footchase sequence – yes, this show is very good at portraying the pathetic – Dwight gets a hold of the list and convinces Michael to follow through with his task. Michael, having done his job, is crushed, but now has more clout with Corporate.

I dug the final bits of emotion felt by Michael and appreciate the gray area in which this show is willing to travel, but I can’t say that the episode was particularly funny. The last one more than made up for that, though, so I’m still satisfied.

My favorite line of the second episode, though?

“You will have pancakes, and you will like it!” – Michael forcing Dwight to eat at IHOP